Therapy
by beverytender
Summary: A series of small pieces, revolving around couple's therapy for Sam and Freddie. Set in the future. Sequel upcoming.
1. Therapy

It's an effective threat, she's a little impressed. And he holds to it, even though she starts being extra dirty and wearing nothing at all to bed. That's less impressive and more disgruntling - is she that easy to resist? - until she catches him jerking off at 3am.

She lets him win after that, lets him make the stupid appointment with the stupid therapist (because she doesn't want to be her mother, who threw away every good thing she ever got) and swears she'll go if he'll just fuck her already, god.

He does, really well, so she might even keep her promise.


	2. Whatever

Turns out, this therapist doesn't have a couch. She's got two of hellishly

uncomfortable chairs and she won't even let Sam put her feet up on the

desk.

Heh. Now Freddie's got dirt in his lap.

The rest of it's not comfortable, either, except the leaving part. They don't even talk about

anything therapy-like, they just lay out some schedule. She's barely listening,

she hates having to be in a certain place at a certain time. Except dinner.

Something about individual & group sessions, she takes that to mean Freddie

has one day a week to complain about her nonstop. Whatever.


	3. Pout

The schedule goes like this, Sam gets Tuesday evenings, Freddie gets Thursday evenings, and they both go on Saturday mornings. Sam complains all day Sunday and Monday about why she has to go first and how she doesn't have anything to say, and hasn't she proved that therapy doesn't work for her? He just rolls his eyes. Clearly he's too used to her by now.

She holds true to that on Tuesday, after she gets there a good twenty minutes late, she answers the questions the therapist poses to her as briefly and vaguely as possible, and no, that she's asking questions like 'how old are you' - what does that have to do with anything?- and 'how long have you known Freddie' - forever, duh, there's no getting rid of the nub.

Probably she shouldn't have said that, the therapist didn't seem to get the joke. The whole thing ends on a very awkward note.

He does the opposite on Thursday, of course, she thinks bitterly, he stays a half an hour after it's supposed to end. She's got half a mind to throw a fit about it, but that comes too close to proving why they need therapy and she's still attached to her 'why the hell are we even doing this, we're _fine_' mindset, she wants to make it last.


	4. All She Wrote

In hindsight, he should've known that 'suggesting' - he winces - therapy would cause trouble for a while. Hopefully, only a little while.

But he can't remember the last time Sam just stopped talking to him and by Friday morning it's clear that's what she's doing. He's well aware she's angry, but he can't figure why she's not kicking and punching and yelling, like she usually is.

It's not that he's not happy, for the most part, he is, it's that their relationship is weird. He doesn't mean the fighting or the way she talks to him, he would have expected that if he'd ever thought about a relationship with Sam. (Honest, he didn't, it was all her.)

(The make up sex completely makes up for all of those negatives, anyways.)

It's the way this whole thing started that worries him, makes him wonder if it means anything or if it's just her trying to something, anything.

They hadn't talked for at least 3 weeks before she showed up at his apartment door, suitcase in tow, shoving past him with a "I need a place to crash for a while."

If Carly hadn't already told him her mom had passed, he wouldn't have let her come in. (Yes, he fully believes that.)

She slept on the couch the first night, if she slept at all, told him it was uncomfortable the second night at midnight, and stole one of his pillows and all the covers, and the third night he woke up at 1 am with his hand up her shirt, and her eyes, wide and unblinking, meeting his own dead on.

He's just never been good at telling her no, and she's just never been good at letting anything go.

Four months later and that's still the only explanation he's got.


	5. Oops?

Saturday morning shows up bright and early and completely unwelcome. Freddie's awake at dawn, increasingly worried. Sam still hasn't spoken to him, and he doesn't have any idea how she's going to be in today's session, if she comes at all, it's a toss up about angry and loud or angry and totally silent. He's not even sure which one he wants.

He's tentatively glad when she tells the therapist she doesn't have an 'opening comment' but that only lasts a second, his mistake is being the one to bring it up and insist she must have something to say, after saying nothing for days.

She looks at him with a blank expression, says that this therapy thing is for him to list whatever it is he's not happy with (she doesn't say 'about her' but he still hears it loud and clear), 'cuz she'd thought they were doing well enough without involving anyone else.

This is when he realizes how exactly he's screwed up.


	6. Unforgettable

The next week, they're asked - or at least he's asked, at his private session, Sam doesn't talk about hers - to make a list. One word to describe your partner, two things you feel you need to work on, four things you don't feel you need to work on. "Double your positive!" is the motto, the doctor gave him a poster for home but he doesn't dare hang it up.

The 2nd and 3rd questions are easy, if no attention is paid to his scratchouts.

2 Things to work on:

1. Communication (Obviously.)

2. Showing affection (in public) - he admits, this one's completely 50/50, it still seems weird to put his arm around her or to kiss her in front of people.

4 Things that are fine:

1. strikeSex./strike Showing affection (not in public.) (At least, he's happy with it.

2. Having each other's backs. (It was a milestone and a surprise when she took his side in a discussion over Carly's. Even if she worded it "sorry, cupcake, the nub's right.")

3. Knowing each other. (Too well. Applying the knowledge... Trickier. That's not an app he can get on his pearphone.)

4. Having separate activities; even if usually she's the one going out without home and he does get a little antsy, and not getting extremely jealous; except the one time she did.

The one word part is a lot more difficult. "Tough" isn't a compliment anymore, neither is "rough" - well, sometimes that is. "Un-Carly-like" had earned him a punch in the face after (and before, but that was just because she liked him bruised, no real connection) sex (she could be a lot more violent then). He really didn't mean it negatively. If he said pretty or beautiful, she'd call him a kiss-ass, those are compliments he can only say when he's holding her down or inside her or both, when he can keep her still and make her believe him. "Sexy" would win him a "perv," (and he'd rather not face the fact that he is) "sensual" isn't a fit, she's too in-your-face for that. "Eternal" is too poetic and sappy, and what if that's not what she wants?


	7. Genetics

**AN: Well, the end's in sight. Give it one, maybe two more pieces. Possibly a sequel but I've got other projects in mind before that. Particularly finishing the other two stories I've got up.**

It takes the therapist all of a month to bring up Sam's mom. She says something about building up trust before touching on such a delicate situation. It takes Sam all of a second to say,

"I'm not talking about her."

"Why not?" The doctor asks, and credit goes to her for a blank expression, Sam's less likely to attack if she thinks you don't care.

"Why would I? This is supposed to be about us. She didn't have anything to do with me and Freddie."

He speaks before he even thinks about it, "Yes, she did!," and it earns him quite a confused look and a "What?" from her.

"She did. You came to... stay with me because she..." he trails off, not at all sure of himself.

Which is apparently the right thing to do, because she's shaking her head, "No. She kicked me out a week and a half before that. I didn't _need_ a place to stay when I showed up at your apartment."

"What?" His turn to blink, surprised and more than a little befuddled.

"Yeah. She saw it coming, told me and Melanie she didn't want us there. Didn't want to scar us for life or anything," Sam snorted, "As if that hadn't already happened. Anyways, it wasn't a surprise."

He just keeps gaping, not unlike a fish, and Sam leans her chair back on two legs, "I never told you my mom was sometimes psychic?"


	8. Come Right Back to This

Sam brings it up again as soon as they get in the car, before she even buckles her seatbelt.

"This whole time, that's what you thought? That I was," she makes a face, these words are awkward for her and he hides a smile, "with you 'cuz my mom died? That's screwed up."

He drags out the silence 'til they're a quarter of the way home. It's a tribute to how far they've come, honestly, that she waits that long to poke him in the side and whine, "Freddie."

"Yeah, mostly. I mean, there wasn't any warning or signals beforehand and we didn't talk about it..."

"I don't talk about feelings," she interjects, and when he glances at her, her forehead is crinkled up adorably. He chuckles and makes an impulsive grab for her hand.

"I know. I just – forgot, I guess. And it was easy to think I was a sort of safety net more than something serious." He shrugs, keeps his eyes on the road and misses her thoughtful, then determined expression until they're on a relatively not busy back stretch of road. She tugs on his hand, bites her lower lip,

"Pull over."

"What?" He glances at her again.

"Pull over, Freddie."

He definitely knows better than to question that expression – let alone disobey it – so he does, and if he's perfectly honest he's only a little surprised when she clamors into his lap, slides his seat back a little, and drags both of his hands to her hips before he's even comprehended what's happening.

"Sam..."

She silences him with what the unfamiliar would call a glare, what he knows is more like 'if you doubt me right now you'll regret it,'

"This is something serious."

He smiles, leans his forehead forward against hers, "Thanks."

20 minutes later, when a police officer knocks on the window while her hands are down his pants and his are up her shirt, he informs her – only freaking out half as much as he should while she laughs – that she's rubbed off on him too much.

She replies with a smirk and a squeeze, and a "You're too easy, Fredvert."

"Not your best."

"Eh, I'll work on it."


	9. Sequel Sneak Peek

Carly's gotten so busy - and so OCD - Sam thinks privately, amused - that now they schedule hanging out.

Every other Saturday is lunch, shopping, and gossip about Carly's latest crush. Occasionally, when Carly's heard something interesting from Freddie, they'll discuss that but usually Sam's unwillingly unless she's really mad at him.

Carly got earfuls during the couple's therapy mess.

But in the six months since then, it's mostly been quiet, or at least the arguments have been the normal ones.

Sam's fidgeting more than usual today, and Carly knows something's coming, but it doesn't work it's way out until Carly says she wants to go in Victoria's Secret for a new bra and Sam blurts out, for all to hear, "Me and Freddie haven't had sex for a month."


	10. Author's Note

Just wanted to let you guys know (mainly the people who story subscriped instead of author subscriped that the sequel to Therapy, "Defending Intentions," is officially up. I'm going to delete this not-chapter in a day or so.


	11. Chapter 11

So since fanfic net is doing this removal of stories that describe a 'physical reaction of a violent or sexual nature' (read: all my stories) I'm not going to be posting here any more. All of my stuff is also on AO3, username beverytender, and it might be on dreamwidth soon. Anyways. The best thing about ffnet is the alert system, so if anyone wants to be alerted when I post a chapter or new fic or whatever, send me a message (here or on tumblr (hard-to-translate) or AO3) and let me know which story or fandom or ship you want alerts for, and your email or tumblr or some such, and I will shoot you a message when I post something that you want to know about. 


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